


Intoxicating

by FollowTheLight (TaleFairy), TaleFairy



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Multi, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-31 14:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleFairy/pseuds/FollowTheLight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleFairy/pseuds/TaleFairy
Summary: Layla Zabini-Hilton is the daughter of worldwide famous model Mirella Zabini and potion's master Gerard Hilton.Most of the time, she's scared of her family tree, especially of her father, who decided to dedicate himself to alcohol more than to his own daughter. But now, her father is getting married again, and, thankfully, Layla was able to argue her way into moving in with her mother and brother, Blaise Zabini.She's terrified of the new school, but knows that being away from her father is the best thing that might ever happen to her; that is, until she meets a certain Slytherin Prince, and starts to rethink her decisions.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 10
Collections: Harry Potter, Harry Potter Favs, Harry Potter Fic





	1. Family

_"You're worthless!" He yelled, throwing a bottle of wine at me. I ran to the opposite side, closer to the door, and used a spell to levitate my luggage to my hands. My cat, Genevieve, was already inside her box, looking up at me with terrified eyes. "You're just like that bitch mother of yours! She left me! She left both of us!" He yells, breaking anything that's in his way. _

_I shake my head. "You left her. She wants me, I'm her daughter. It was your choice to leave her, to lose her. Now it's my choice to leave you. Have fun at your wedding." I say and sigh, shoving my train ticket in my bra and opening the door. _

_I look at Gerard one last time. His dark blue eyes face me, his black hair is messy. I run a hand through my hair, the only thing I have that I got from him, and whisper three last words. "I love you." And shut the door behind me.   
_

_'I can't take this anymore.' I think, covering my bruises with the sweatshirt. 'It was a wise choice to leave.' _

_-_September 1st, Third Year, Zabini's Manor- 

I wake up early with the sound of my brother trying to destroy my bedroom door. I sigh and get up, quickly slipping on my slippers and walking to the door. I rub my eyes, and Blaise's worried eyes meet mine. "What's wrong?" I ask, letting out a yawn. 

"Today's our first day back at Hogwarts." He tells me and I nod. 

"Yes, I'm aware of that." I chuckle and he enters my room. "Well, you're welcome to come in." 

He rolls his eyes before facing me again. "You shouldn't have come. Not now. There's too much going on." He says and runs a hand through his perfectly combed light brown hair. I've always hated his hair, because it's really beautiful, like mother's hair. But mine... Oh, no. Mine is dark, like my father's. I shake my head before frowning.

"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting on my bed while he walks through my room. 

"Is dangerous, Lay. Things are going on now, and... I don't want you getting hurt." He says, locking his eyes with mine. I'm glad my eyes and his are the same colour, hazel. That's from our mother, and I like it, even if, when I'm stressed, my eyes might change colour, because I have this weird genetic illness.

"I can take care of myself. I did it for thirteen years, I can do it now." I tell him, folding my arms. 

"You... You don't understand." He sighs, heading to the door. "Just promise me you'll be careful this year, especially if you get sorted to Slytherin." He says and I nod, there we go again. 

My mother was a Slytherin, now she's a famous model, fashion designer and singer. My father was a Slytherin, now he's a famous lawyer and alchemist. My brother is a Slytherin, and he's... Well, he's an idiot, but I'm sure he'll have a bright future. Not being in Slytherin means that I'm not an actual part of this family, which I don't care. I don't really know if I want to be a part of this family.

I used to love the stories my father told me about my mother, Mirella. She was always smiling, her voice was like an angel's, and she was the sun of his life. But, when I got here, I received a cold hug from Blaise, and a weak smile from my mother. Blaise says she's going through some hard times in her career, because someone wants her to stop being a model, and concentrate on the designs for her new collection. 

I just want to see her happy. She's gorgeous. Her dark skin, her bright hazel eyes, her light brown hair... She's perfect. I always wished I was that perfect. But maybe Blaise is right, maybe this was a horrible idea. On the other hand, being here is much better than being in France, than being in Beauxbatons. I know that here, in England, people will know who I am because of my famous mother, not because of my drunk father. I don't need to hear any more comments about him, I just want to forget.

I finally look up at him. "I'll be careful, Blaise. I promise."

He nods, looking at me with his usual smirk before saying: "Get ready, breakfast's in five, we're leaving in 15." He winks and closes my door, leaving me dealing with my own thoughts. 

**

The thing about having breakfast with my family is that no one seems to want to say anything. My mother, for example, always stares at her food before picking the right things, just like I used to do when I was, like, four. My brother always seems more involved in his thoughts, and he's usually reading letters from his friends, usually from a boy whose initials are D.M. 

I don't know who this boy is, but Blaise always tells me they're really good friends, even though something tells me that this boy, whoever he is, has something to do with the problems Blaise keeps mentioning. 

As about me, my mother already told me that reading on the breakfast table is really rude, so I just eat fruit, drink a little bit of juice, and rush to the bathroom, to brush my teeth.

I turn on the tap, so it actually sounds like I'm brushing my teeth. Then I make a messy bum with my curly hair and kneel in front of the toilet. I don't know for how long I've been doing this, but, now, it just feels like a habit. 

I look into the mirror, touching my cheeks. Merlin, I look like a pig. I can't look like a pig, I'm a Junior Model for my mother's company, looking like a pig is not an option. 

As I rush out of the bathroom, Cressida, our house elf, hands me a bag with money and another with my lunch, for the train. I smile and thank her, even though I know I won't spend so much money, and I'll probably just give my lunch to Blaise, since he loves to eat Cressida's food.

"Have fun, my kids. And Blaise, take care of your sister, it's the first time she'll be there." Mother says and I roll my eyes, smiling a little. 

"Mom, he's not that much older." I remind her, and she hands me a warm smile. A genuine smile. I tried to smile back at her, but as she leaned down to face me, I saw the necklace. That necklace again. The same the blonde man gave her three days ago. He came alone, his whiteish blonde hair reaching his shoulders. I didn't know what it meant, and something tells me I don't want to. 

"I know, my love. But I want to make sure my little girl is good and healthy. I'll write, okay?" She says and I smile. "Please, behave." She leans closer to kiss my forehead and Blaise's, and with that, we step on the fireplace. 

I hate travelling by floo powder, I always feel like I'll throw up and end up passing out. Luckily, Blaise held my hand and I could support my weight on his. "You okay?" He asks as we arrive Neather Hall, a Magical shop in front of the Train Station. A lady dressed in blue smiles at us, she must be around 16, and Blaise winks at her before we take our carts. The girl bites her lips, I bet she wouldn't if she knew he's only 14. I roll my eyes as I place my stuff in the cart, and drive with Blaise to the Station.

"Could you not do that?" I ask. 

"Do what?" He chuckles, showing his sparkling white teeth. 

"Flirt with everything that has boobs." I roll my eyes. "It's disgusting."

"You say that because you haven't met my friend, Draco." He says with a smirk. "Now _he's _a flirt. No girl can resist him."

I sigh and roll my eyes once again. "First of all, if he's like you around girls, I don't really want to meet him, second of all, fuck off." 

He laughs. "Said the girl that never dated, or kissed, and is an angry little virgin." 

"Shut up." I say. "No one needs to hear this." 

He smirks and we finally arrive at Platform 9 3/4, he checks for the traffic of neverending muggles and nods at me. I take it as a sign to go first and run in the direction of the wall, still not understanding why British wizards have to make everything so complicated.

In one second I'm on the other side, looking at the many families that came to leave their children. Younger kids seem scared, older kids seem happy, and my brother, who soon arrives after me, looks like he's just arrived home. "Where do we walk now?" I ask him and he points at a train, I nod and follow him. As we walk, his eyes scan the perimeter, looking for something that seems important, and, when he finally finds it, he smiles. Not a smirk, but a genuine sparkly smile, like I've never seen before.

"I'll be right back." He says before rushing to a tall black-haired girl, that is obviously from Slytherin and was gifted with a beautiful set of light green eyes, that are shadowed by the cold scary look in them, but soon seem to soften a little bit as she starts chatting with Blaise.

After about ten minutes of awkwardly watching them, in the hopes that my brother will remember my existence and help me not enter the train by myself, I give up and ride my cart to the queue, waiting patiently as everyone hands their luggage and walks in. As every single line formed by human beings, mindless talk is going on in front and behind me. 

In front of me, two first years discuss about the importance of magical creatures, and one of them proudly holds a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; meanwhile, behind me, two girls who seem to be around my age, therefore, Third years, twirl their hair and chew gum, like a fucking muggle tv show parody.

"Oh, dear Lord. Have you seen him?" One of them, the blonde, says.

"Ugh, yes. He's so hot. I need a piece of him asap." The brunette says, making me realise she's American.

"Didn't you hook up with him, like, last year?" The blonde asks, chuckling. That's something else I don't understand about Britain, everyone seems to start their sexual lives WAY too early, compared to other places... Well, except for America. Everything is legal in America.

"Yes, but it doesn't hurt to do it again, does it?" The other girl replies, and I have to forcefully remind myself that everyone is free to do whatever the fuck they want, or, in this case, whoever, and even though those wouldn't be my choices, I shouldn't forbid anyone from having their own.

As the line moves, I take a few steps forward, not even realising I'm about to bump into something until I do... Or better, someone. I hear the girls behind me gasp, then the brunette pushes me aside, smirking lightly at the boy, her face is covered with makeup, and it looks kinda cakey but still makes her look beautiful, and her clothes are so short and tight that I kind of feel embarrassed about my own clothes. "Hey, Draco." Her high pitched voice say and I almost gasp. Draco? As in Draco, my brother's best friend? As in D.M? Merlin, he's actually kind of cute, but at the moment I see his smirk, I just want to punch him in the face.

"Hey, Cora." He greets the girl. "How was your summer?" He asks as he pushes his things to the luggage man. The man sighs and makes an effort to hold everything up. 

"It was amazing, but I missed you... Maybe we could... Talk, later." She asks, playing with her hair. 

He laughs and nods, his head turning to me for a second, and I can finally see his eyes. 

They're cold and grey, like a snow day. I look to the ground, but I can still feel his eyes on my face. 

As the girls hand their luggage to the man, Draco turns around to walk to me, after winking at the girls. "See you later, yes?" He says and they smile and nod, walking into the train. He walks on my way and I hand my luggage to the man. 

"Thank you, sir." I say and he smiles at me, a genuine smile from a man who has been handling annoying teenagers all day and was probably never properly thanked.

"You don't actually need to thank him, love. It's his job." The boy with grey eyes, Draco, tells me, as he follows behind me. 

I raise an eyebrow. "I was raised to be polite." 

He smirks. "Are you saying I wasn't?" He asks, his eyes challenging me. 

"Well, it certainly doesn't look like." I say, slowly turning around to start my search for a cabin without making an embarrassment of myself.

"Wait!" He says and grabs my arm. I push his hands away before looking up at him, my eyebrows raised. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." He says and I nod. I recognize the name... Malfoy. My mother worked with his mother at the London Fashion Week, two months before I arrived. 

"Okay, cool. Bye." 

"No!" He grabs my arm again. 

"Stop touching me!" I say, my anger flaming as I try my best to hide my arms again. "Do not fucking touch me, I did not give you permission to."

He smirks and nods. "That's not usually what I hear." 

"Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there." I say, my shy yet annoyed side kicking in as I take a safe step away from him.

"What's your name?" He asks curiously, folding his arms in an attempt to look defensive.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I think about whether I should tell him or not. "Why don't you try to find out?" 

"I like you already." He smirks.

"I'm not interested in sleeping with you." I state much too quickly.

He raises his eyebrows, looking dramatically offended. "Why do you think that's what I want?" I almost curse under my breath, how could I ever assume that a guy would want anything with me? I clench my jaw but refuse to let my guard down. 

"I've heard of you, Malfoy. I know your type." I say determined to make him give up on annoying me so I can leave. How can my brother be friends with him? And worst, BEST friends.

"Lay!" Speaking of the devil. I turn around to find Blaise running to us, followed by the dark-haired girl, who looks at me from head to toe, her lips forming a thin annoyed line.

Well, there's something we already have in common.

Even though I understand how someone unknown can affect a group of friends, I'm already so angry at how cocky Malfoy is that I just snap. "Uhm, excuse me? Are you searching for something on my body or...?" I ask, Draco clearly enjoying the situation as he tries to hold in a laugh.

"Who do you think you're talking to?!" She asks, putting on a mean girl attitude that matches her posture.

"I don't know, miss Pug Face?" I say, my jaw clenched. Ironically, as peaceful as my mother is now, my bitch side is probably from her side of the family.

Ready to fire back at me, probably with her fist on my face, her expression seems to soften as her eyes fall on Draco. "Drakey!" She rushes to him, her arms pulling him into a tight hug. Again, the barf approaches my throat.

Draco's eyes meet mine as the girl holds his hand. I'm not even surprised as I realize her protectiveness is probably because her boyfriend is a jerk.

"Well, if we're done here..." I start, ready to leave before being, once again, interrupted.

"How do you know each other?" He asks alternating his gaze from Blaise to me and so on. "Are you dating?" I raise an eyebrow and look at Blaise, then, we burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" He frowns. 

"It hurts to know you didn't tell him about me, Bass." I say and he chuckles. 

"Guess I just forgot." He shrugs. 

"So you are?" He asks, both eyebrows raised like he's just found out about some huge secrets.

"She's my sister, idiot." Blaise says, like its the most obvious thing, and we watch as Draco's jaw falls open.

"Your... Sister? You have a sister? And she's cute?" Draco asks and I clench my jaw, I hate this word, especially directed at me.

"Watch your tongue, Malfoy." Blaise says, suddenly changing his posture to a defensive one.

"I'm his half-sister," I explain. "his mother slept with my father, second husband, and that's how I got here." I shrug.

"Oh... That's... Cool, I guess. Do you want to come sit with us?" He asks. I look at Blaise, who seems to be cool with it, but Pug Face stops me. 

"There's no more room, sorry. My friends are sitting with us. You know, Cora and Micah." She says and I glance at Draco, trying to hide my smirk as he looks like he was just punched in the stomach.

"It's fine, I'll just find an empty compartment. Or make some friends." I say and look at Blaise. "I'll see you later." 

He hugs me. "Good luck with the Sorting Hat." He winks. "Go Slytherin."

"Yeah, whatever." I say and turn around, holding Genevive's box near me as I search for a compartment.

After what seems like a decade, I find one that's not totally full. There are three people in it, a girl and two boys. I knock shyly before opening the door, their heads turn to face me. I blush. "I... Uh..." I start. "D-Do you mind if I sit here?"

"No." The dark-haired boy says, his hair a few shades darker than mine, like ink black, and he sports beautiful green eyes. Not cold green, like Pug Face's, but warm, charming and cosy ones. He gets up and takes my hand, pulling me to his side. He doesn't seem to notice what's he's doing, because once he let's go of me, noticing how uncomfortable I am, he blushes deeply. "I... I'm sorry." 

"It's okay." I say, keeping my hands close to my body. "I'm not the biggest fan of human contact."

The girl in front of me smiles warmly, her amazingly curly hair falling on her shoulders, while her chocolate brown eyes seem to smile alongside her lips. "I'm Hermione Granger." She says, putting her book down. "This is Ron Weasley." She points at the shy looking redhead. "And that's Harry Potter." She says, pointing at the boy who grabbed my arm. 

I tilt my head to the side, Harry Potter? Oh, sure! He goes to Hogwarts too. I smile at them. "I'm Layla Hilton." I say, not really wanting to mention my last name, but Hermione seems to get it.

"Wait, you're Mirella Zabini's daughter, right?" She asks and I nod. "Blaise's sister." She tells the boys, who seem confused. 

"Blaise's sister? But you seem so nice." Ron says with a confusedly adorable look. 

"Ronald!" Hermione hisses and I chuckle. 

"No, is okay. He's pretty much a dick." I smile shyly at Ron, who smiles back. 

"So, you're joining Hogwarts this year?" Harry asks and I nod. 

"I was from Beauxbatons," I tell. "My father decided to get married again and... Well, I decided it was time to visit my mother." I say, not really wanting to talk about it. Harry seems to catch on, for he doesn't ask anything else about my family. 

"Beauxbatons? How was the system there? The houses?" Hermione asks.

"We had four houses, just like Hogwarts. Bravoure, the house of the Brave; Réalisation, house of the Ambitious; Grâce, house of the pure and friendly; and Raison, house of the Smart. Every time someone was sorted, we entered the house and got a bracelet, that had one or two symbols on it. Like, you could be sorted to Grâce, but your bracelet could have a green heart, for Raison." I explain. 

"What house were you from?" Hermione asks. 

"I was from Raison, but my bracelet had the red dragon of Bravoure and the lightning of Réalisation," I explain. 

"So you're smart, brave and ambitious." Harry says and I nod. 

"In thesis, yes." I nod.

"Do you think you'll get Slytherin?" Ron asks. "Because of your family?" 

I shake my head. "I don't really care." I shrug. "I know my mother wants me in Slytherin, as does my brother, but I don't care about the House, and, personally, I don't want to be on Slytherin and have to face Draco and Pug Face every day." I blurt.

"I already like you, Layla." Harry says and I smile shyly, looking down.

"Thank you... And call me Lay. Somehow, my mother managed to start my first and middle names with 'Lay', I guess she thought it added to the whole thing."

"My middle name is James." Harry comments. "Because of my Father."

"Mine is Bilius." Ron smiles. 

"Jean." Hermione chuckles. "But I hate it. Yours?" 

"Laycee. It means Lace; unbreakable thing. It's french." I roll my eyes.

"It's beautiful." Harry says and everyone looks at him, as I look to the ground, blushing. 

Hermione looks at Ron, and they giggle, making me even more embarrassed.

"So..." I clean my throat, looking at Hermione's hands. "What book are you reading?" 

"Pride and Prejudice." She smiles. "By..."

"Jane Austen! Are you kidding? She's my favourite muggle author!" I say, taking a copy of Netherfield Park from my backpack. 

Hermione smiles and looks at the book, showing me hers. We giggle and start talking about it. "I think we're going to be good friends." Hermione says and I nod. 

"I hope so." I smile, looking at the boys.

Harry smiles and looks at Ron, who raises a red eyebrow.


	2. Secrets

A loud bang woke me up, making me quickly look around the room, trying to find out where I was. 

"Lay?" A calm voice says. I look to my side to find Harry, rubbing my eyes. "Hey, it's okay. You fell asleep during Hermione's reading. It happens to the best of us." He says, smiling. 

I look up to see Hermione rolling her eyes. "Sorry for being so boring." 

"No, it's not like that. I had a bad night, haven't really had enough sleep." I say, blushing. "What... What was that noise?" 

"One of the women who work here told us we have to get out, find another cabin." Hermione explains. 

"Why?" I ask, frowning as I search for Genevive's cage, sighing in relief as I find her on the floor. 

"Something about maintenance." Harry answers. "Come on, we'll have to find another cabin. Lucky you, you haven't slept much, we're still hours away from Hogwarts." He smiles and I nod, taking Genevive as Harry takes my backpack.

"Oh, I can carry that. You don't have to..." I start. 

"No, it's okay. You go ahead, try to find us a cabin, okay? I`ll take care of this..." He says, and I can see he's struggling with the backpack. "What do you carry in here?!" 

"Books." I answer, shrugging, and I can hear Hermione's laugh as she comes closer to me. 

"That's why I like you." 

After about five minutes of search for an empty cabin, we finally find something. It's almost empty, except for an older man, who's apparently asleep. "I guess that'll do." Harry shrugs.

"Who's this?" Ron asks as we enter the cabin, placing our stuff on the ground. 

"Professor R. Lupin." Hermione answers, taking a seat next to me. 

"You know everything," Ron says, frowning. "how does she know everything?" He asks me and I chuckle, shaking my head. 

"It's written on his luggage, Ronald." Hermione replies as Harry takes a seat next to Ron, looking to the Professor before turning to face us. 

"Do you think he's really asleep?" He asks and I check, poking him lightly, and getting no apparent answer, not even a twitch.

I nod quickly and glance at Harry, who's watching me closely. "Yes, he's sleeping. Why?" I ask and he rubs the back of his head, looking at Ron and Hermione before turning to me again. "Is there something wrong?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No... It's just... I needed to tell Ron and Mione something." He says embarrassed and I nod, understanding.

"Oh, it's okay. I'll just wait outside." I quietly get up heading to the door.

Before I can reach it, Harry's hand touches mine, forcing me to turn around. His deep green eyes face me, and a small smile is placed on his lips. "No, it's okay. You can stay. Is not... Is not something you can't hear. It's just... I would really appreciate if you kept this between us." 

I frown but nod. "Of course, Harry." 

Harry nods, sitting next to Ron and quickly looking at him, before facing me and Mione. "Well..." He starts. 

"What?!" Hermione says in shock. 

"You think Malfoy is... A Death Eater?" I ask, my eyes wide open. "There's no way he's... One of _them_." 

"We all know his father has something to do with Voldemort. And I saw him! I saw his family!" Harry says, half whispering, half shouting. 

"That doesn't mean he's a Death Eater." I say, crossing my arms above my chest. 

Draco Malfoy can be anything. Idiotic, sarcastic, stupid, spoiled... But he's definitely not a Death Eater. I mean... If he is... Then that means my brother could be one as well, and there's no way Blaise would get involved with something so dangerous.

No, I'm sure Blaise doesn't know anything about Draco being a Death Eater. _If _he is. Which is impossible. What would... 

"What would the Dark Lord want with Malfoy?" Ron asks, voicing my thoughts. 

"Exactly. You must be delirious, Harry. There's no way he's a Death Eater." Hermione says, shaking her head. 

"Then what was he doing at Borgin and Burkes? Buying candy?" Harry asks us, rolling his eyes. 

"Hold your sass, Potter." I comment, trying to lighten up the mood.

Harry smiles lightly at me, sticking his tongue out as I roll my eyes. "But, really, there's something wrong with- Lay, are you... Are you okay?" He asks and I look up at him, trying to shake my head, a strange feeling of coldness and dizziness hitting me. 

Suddenly, it's like time stops. Because of my condition, I've felt cold before, I've experienced it, but this is not the same. It's not a cold that keeps me warm inside. It's the kind of cold that consumes you, that kills you slowly, that starts from the outside and dries you inside. I look at the window, a desperate move to open it, to be free, let the outside warmth hit me, but it doesn't work, because it's not warm outside, it's cold. Maybe as cold as it is in here.

I get up, my brain swinging as I open the cabin door, desperate for some fresh air. Some warm air. But instead, what I find is way more terrifying. 

A Dementor. Its head turns to my direction as I let out a loud yell, falling on the ground as its 'hands' touch my heart, its faceless head close to mine. Its like all the happiness, all the fun and love, is being take away from me. Like I can't breathe like I can't see anything but darkness and misery.

A body falls on the ground next to mine, there's another of it. Another Dementor. I don't even check to see who's falling next to me, concentrating on searching for air. I feel the cold hitting my muscles, my brain, my soul. 

And then... Darkness.


	3. Mirrors

A loud bang makes me wake up, the light coming from the windows making it seem like I'm home, cosy under my covers, but when I see Harry, Ron and Hermione hovering over me, I realise where I am, flashbacks hitting me in the back of my brain, in the form of a tremendous headache. 

"Easy, there." A soft voice says, helping me sit up. "How do you feel?" The voice asks again, and, as I blink a couple of times, I see Harry's warm green eyes looking down at me. 

I look around, the guy that was once asleep, responsible for the flash of light I saw before passing out, is sitting down in front of me; it takes me a few seconds to remember the words I saw printed on his luggage, Professor Remus J. Lupin. "I'm fine." I answer, denying to myself that the pain in the back of my head feels like a million bee stings.

"You're not." Harry says, moving a few locks of hair off my face. "But points for acting." He smiles, handing me a bottle of water and a flat object covered in tin foil. I frown. "It's just chocolate, don't worry." He explains.

"It'll help you get better." Professor Lupin says, getting up and asking Hermione and Ron to sit down and stop being so close to me. "It'll restore your happiness, and it has the advantage of being delicious." He chuckles, sending me a wink before excusing himself and quietly leaving the room. 

Even though the Professor seemed like someone quite friendly and down to earth, the twitch on his lips and the visible apprehensive look, hidden under his soft features but something I managed to catch on, left me troubled about what to think of him, for now, I'll trust him, after all, he just gave me chocolate, but something about him just doesn't seem right.

"What happened?" I ask, resting my head on the stuffed seat before shoving a square of chocolate in my mouth. Well, I guess that's one point for Professor Lupin, it does make me feel better.

"You really scared us." Hermione says, her voice showing an impressive amount of concern for someone who just met me like 4 hours ago. "You fell about five seconds before Harry hit the ground, but you took twice as long to wake up, Ron thought you were in a coma." 

"So did you." Ron says, folding his arms in defense. 

Harry lifts his head to glance at Ron, putting an end to the argument he was about to start. "Enough, she just woke up."

After playing with another square of chocolate on my tongue, I close my eyes to try to gather as much information about the minutes before I passed out as I could, and, slowly, it all came to me in a set of flashbacks. "That thing... I remember seeing it before, on my mom's old books... It was a dementor, wasn't it?"

Harry nods slowly. "Yeah, the thing just came flying in... We still don't know why, but Lupin was meaning to talk to the driver about it, I guess that's where he went... How did you know what it was?"

I shrug, slowly repenting my actions as a sharp pain flows from the back of my head to my neck. "I've read about them." 

Harry smirks, shaking his head. "I should've predicted that. Professor said we should be arriving in about an hour, and that was 20 or 30 minutes ago, so you should probably go change." He warns, checking the clock on the wall. "Unless you're not feeling okay enough to walk, Ron and I can leave the room and..."

"Don't be silly, I can walk." I get up, grabbing my backpack. "Thanks, guys... For being worried and stuff." 

As I start walking, my body takes a few seconds to get used to being up again, which brings a bit more of pain to my head and causes my legs to weaken, making me stumble, luckily, Harry quickly gets up and helps me, and I thank him quietly as I walk out of the cabin. Fortunately for me, I end up bumping into someone again, but the person reacts by grabbing me by the arms and helping me stand up straight again. "Thank you." I mumble, my cheeks on fire, but the blush well disguised by my skin colour.

"You really like those words, don't you?" The person asks, making me clench my jaw as I realize is Draco. Great. I couldn't have bumped on anyone else, it HAD to be him. "I was joking, darling. Something that's not a joke, though, is you. You look sick, feeling nauseated or something?" 

I try my best to ignore the fact that he just called me darling, and look up into his eyes, trying to distract myself from the annoying pain in my head. "I'm fine. A dementor managed to enter our cabin, Harry and I passed out and we-" I start explaining, but he cuts me off.

"Potter passed out?!" He sneers, choking on a laugh. "Sorry, that was rude. But, like, are you okay? There's a medical wing right on the other part of the train..." 

"I'm fine, Malfoy. Just have a little pain in the back of my head from falling flat on the floor, but I'll be perfectly fine by the time we get to Hogwarts." I reassure him. "You should go back to your girlfriend." 

"Girlfriend?" He raises an eyebrow, folding his arms before I have a chance to escape. 

"The pug-faced girl you were talking to earlier, the one that held your hand right after you shamelessly flirted with those girls... and me, for god knows what reason." I state the obvious, controlling my eye-rolling impulses. 

"Okay, first of all, I wasn't 'shamelessly flirting' with you, I just think you're interesting. And second of all, Pansy isn't my girlfriend, she just has this stupid crush on me, that's all, and once you start living with us in Slytherin, you'll see that..." 

"Wait, wait, wait. How can you be so sure I'm a Slytherin?" I raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs. "Your whole family is, why would you be any different?" He simply says.

"I just don't think I'm the type." I look down, it's probably the first time I've said that out loud, and to someone that wasn't myself. Truth is, I don't really feel comfortable talking about possibly being a disappointment to my family.

"I think you do, in fact, I think you would fit anywhere." He observes, staring me in the eyes and nodding to himself.

"Oh, is that so?" I chuckle. "And why would you think that?"

"Well, you see, you're just this interesting and mysterious girl that is shy and snarky at the same time and cannot hold her tongue once she feels angry. I'm pretty sure everyone must love you." 

"How can you know so much about me, Mr Malfoy?" I can't contain the smile that threatens to play on my lips.  
"You see, Mrs Hilton, I've been paying a lot of attention to you, so I would know such things." He simply says, smirking down at me. "And I might've asked your brother one thing or another about you." He chuckles, scratching the back of his head. "He was suspicious at first, but I said it's only because he had never mentioned you before."

"And he believed that?" He nods and I shake my head. "Blaise doesn't know that much about me, obviously, since we didn't grow up together, but that is a pretty solid impression you got there. Any other pieces of information about me you might want to share?"

"Well... I also know you're beautiful, but I didn't need to ask Blaise to find that out, it's pretty obvious."

I clench my jaw, avoiding his eyes. "Don't."

"What? You are beautiful, it's not like I'm lying."

I feel the tip of my fingers getting wet, and it takes me a few seconds to make my breathing return to normal. "I'm not, it is and you are." I finally say, cleaning my sweaty palms on my clothes. "I have to go change, I'll see you in Hogwarts." I mumble, leaving to search for the bathroom as quickly as possible.

It doesn't take too long for me to find the bathroom. I make sure all doors are closed and find myself staring at the mirror as I undress, analyzing every single curve of my body, as I do every day. I clench my jaw, Draco's voice ringing in my head. "Beautiful", he said. For so long I've waited for someone who would say that to me, someone who wasn't my family or friends, someone who could be interested in me... I waited for so long to find someone who wouldn't care about the way I look, who would think I'm beautiful just the way I am, and now that someone has finally said that, I can't help but notice the mean and ironic tone the word has. I'm not beautiful, I'm not even pretty. I've spent my entire life forcing myself to understand the truth, I'm ugly. And now that someone called me beautiful, I know is not true. And so does the mirror. 

As soon as I'm done hating myself, I finish getting dressed and walk out of the bathroom, right in time to feel the train slowing down until it finally stops.   
Now is the moment where everything will start making sense, maybe I'll finally know who I truly am... The Sorting Hat is never wrong.


	4. The Sorting Hat

I rest my hands on the sink, the train slowing down until it finally stops. My breathing is completely uneven, and something tells me that if I don't calm down I might hyperventilate.

I turn on the tap and throw some water on my face, facing myself in the mirror and trying to calm down. "I can do this. I can totally do this." I repeat, like a prayer.

Suddenly, a voice fills my ears and takes me away from my personal circle of hell. "The train just stopped."

I nod slowly. "Yes, it did." I chuckle as I look down at my clothes, my mind still trippy.

Hermione closes the door, an understanding expression on her face as she walks up to me. "Hey, I know it's hard... But everything is going to be okay and no matter what happens you'll find your own place and you'll see how amazing it is."

"It's just... I'm scared, Mione. I'm scared because I know that my parents will kill me if I don't get Slytherin and, deep down, I always knew that I didn't belong there, but, I mean... would I be happy anywhere else?"

"You'll never know if you don't take risks. Look, that's why Hogwarts exists, that's why our world exists. There are tons of opportunities out there, but you need to give the world a chance to show you. By the end of the year, I'm sure you will have found out who you are, and where you belong. But remember, your house does not determine who you'll be. Being in Slytherin doesn't make you mean, being in Gryffindor doesn't make you brave, being in Hufflepuff doesn't make you sweet and being in Ravenclaw doesn't make you smart. You choose who you want to be, not your House."

I nod slowly, a smile coming to my lips as I hold her hands with mine. "Thank you, I really needed that."

"My pleasure. Now, come on, let's go start your adventure!"

We're not even a foot outside the train when a large man stands in the centre of our sight. He is large in both weight and height and has a goofy smile hidden under his full beard, one that must've taken at least 30 years to grow, for it almost reached his stomach.

Regardless of me feeling intimidated by that big scary looking man, Hermione seemed to feel better when she saw him, for she runs to him, arms opened as she yells in happiness what must be the man's name. "Hagrid!"

The man, Hagrid, hugs her back before gently placing her down and looking at me. "And who is that lovely lady?" 

"That is Layla Hilton, a new friend." She introduces me, making me hand Hagrid a shy (and honestly a little bit scared) smile. 

"Any friend of Hermione's is my friend as well." He smiles, sweeping me off my feet with a hug, and holding me high in the air for a few seconds until I can't breathe. "You must be the new little one Dumbledore told me about. Transferring to the third year, yeah?" 

"Yes, sir." I finally say as I regain my air. 

"Sir? I like you." He laughs. His laugh sounds like the one of a happily drunk man after ordering more beer from the fine-looking waitress; after living with my father for all those years, I know exactly how a drunk laugh sounds. I do not think Hagrid is drunk, though, but his laugh surely resembles it. "Well unfortunately, my dear, you won't be able to follow Hermione to Hogwarts. You will be taking the boats with me and the other first years, it's the fastest and most organized way to get you sorted into a House."

I look at Hermione, her face falls down as she hears Hagrid's words. "I suppose if there's no other way..." She walks to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'll see you in the Great Hall, okay? Good luck."

I nod. "I'll be the one with the Hat on my head." I smile. "Thank you, Mione." 

Hagrid then proceeds to guide me and a bunch of excited 11 year-olds to a large variety of boats which float on the dark water of the lake surrounding Hogwarts. I carefully step into one of them, trying to look as calm as possible as I feel the boat wiggle with the sudden weight, my heart beating fast as I am not the biggest fan of water. When I was younger, we visited my aunt Nora and one of my cousins pushed me into the water. I almost drowned, for I didn't have the total control of my abilities yet. My father was completely drunk on firewhiskey (which was rather unusual, since he prefers the actual strong stuff), so he didn't really notice until my uncle saved me from my almost certain death and placed me safely in the chaise longue located in the living room. 

To safely explain the story of why I am the way I am, my family was cursed over a thousand generations ago. The curse was cast by an angry wizard who met one of my ancestors, Camille and was very unpleased to discover she had an arranged marriage with another man. The curse specified that each one of the women born within the Zabini family (or who somehow had pure Zabini blood coursing through their veins), would be "gifted" with the ability to control an element. Sounds pretty cool for a curse, I know. 

In the 1800s, Layla Zabini was the first woman in our family tree who was able to control all of the elements, with the addition of objects and, so the legend says, people. She died at the age of 17, and to this day nobody knows why.

When I was born, my mother thought that naming me after the heroic woman would make me equally as talented and brave, which was proven true when I turned out to have the same set of ability the old Zabini had. As fire erupted from my fingers in the very day I was born, my mother assumed she had a fire-wizard in her hands, but, when I started bringing strong wind currents every time I cried, it didn't take her too long that the name might have been a little too literal. And so it was discovered the second Zabini to ever control all elements. 

The story is now mostly told as a, well, story. A legend or fairy tale for children, but there still are those who believe that the Zabini blood is powerful. In fact, it has been documented in a few books, old ones mostly but a few recent ones, so much so that I was certain Hermione would be the one to bring it up, but she didn't, so I assume she believes, like everyone else, that it is nothing but a legend. And maybe that's for the best, because the sentence "with great power comes great responsibility" isn't simply a muggle cliche, but a true statement of how it is to live in my family. 

As we navigate through the Black Lake, I can't help but wonder if the Sorting Hat can truly browse through a person's memories, as it is told, or if it simply gathers the essence of the person's personality to place them in the right House. If it's the former, I hope the Hat will be merciful of me and place me in Slytherin, if it's the latter, I'm deeply afraid of what might happen. 

The ride doesn't take long. Hagrid gently helps me off the boat, and a few other students, and I gladly embrace the change as I feel the hard ground beneath my feet. No more water. At least that's comforting. 

My stress seems to completely strip away from me as I glance up to admire the true architectural beauty that is Hogwarts. The fact that I was actually born in England, but taken away from the land when my father managed to get full custody in the divorce, might have made me grow up in France, a place which has the prettiest, softest and most lovely buildings, but it is nothing compared to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts' beauty doesn't rely on the sweet candy-coloured buildings of France, it relies on bravery, fierceness and, might I admit, a bit of fear. It is a strong construction which intimidates anyone who glances at it, but I like to think that any place who looks that scary has to be the home of equally though people.

The paintings, like the entire building, also bragged about their medieval cold yet intriguing tones. My eyes couldn't stop analyzing what each painting was trying to say, that is, what the painter was trying to say, because paintings tend to be a bit annoying once they start talking, and my eyes would have watered with all that cold-hearted glory... If it wasn't for Minerva. 

Minerva McGonagall was the one responsible for transferring me from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. I hadn't formally met her until just now, but something about the way she talked and presented herself (her impeccable posture and her perfectly tied hair held in a strong bun) instantly told me, before she even opened her mouth, that this was a woman to look up to. Brave, strong, independent, someone who imposes authority without the need to open her mouth.

"Welcome Students, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, but you will address me only as Professor McGonagall. I'll guide you through the Hall where you will be presented with a Hat which will tell you where you will spend the rest of your academic life. Miss Zabini?"

"Y-Yes, Professor McGonagall?" I ask nervously. 

"You will be the last one, I hope that's not a problem." She kindly smiles at me, and that is enough for me to agree with anything in the world. That was something I hadn't seen in a while, a truly passionate mother-like smile. 

I quickly shake my head. "Not at all."

"Good, please move to the end of the queue." She advises, before opening a long parchment which I assumed had the names of the children written on it. She then starts reading each of the names and placing the children in their place, and, as she finishes, my heart is beating so fast I am positive a heart attack might be approaching, and I haven't even stepped into the Great Hall yet. Professor McGonagall then proceeds to make a swift gesture with her wand, which opens the door in a disturbingly classy way, and that's our cue to start walking. 

While we walk in, I try my best to blend in and not be noticed, but that is kinda hard when you're the eldest person in the group and people were already expecting you. It is no secret that when you come from a famous family, especially a rich one (or old one), everyone always seems to know what your next step will be. At all times.

When Professor McGonagall waves her hand, we take it as a signal to stop walking and position ourselves in a shoulder-to-shoulder line, in front of the professors dining table, a big elevated podium which sort of represents how they are above us in technique and wisdom. As the Professor starts to call each new student by their last names, alphabetically, of course, I take the chance, as other scared students, to slightly turn to the side and browse my eyes through the Hall. My brother's encouraging smile is the first thing I spot, he's sitting next to a tall brunette girl who doesn't seem to care about the housing ceremony. By the looks of it, she seems to be in 6th or 7th year, so I completely understand her lack of interest.

Right next to her, I spot Draco, being snuggled by Pug-Pansy's neverending love. She seems to be clinging to his arm like an itch you can't scratch. He manages to get his arm away from her and wave at me, making his girlfriend-not-girlfriend very mad. I shrug and wave back at him, then glancing at the Gryffindor table to find Harry's eyes on me.

I hand him the least nervous smile I can, and he gladly smiles back. Hermione is sitting right next to him, and she taps Ron's head to force him to look up. His head snaps up towards me and he smiles, gravy sliding down his mouth, making me chuckle. He gives me two gravy covered thumbs-up, and the whole scene just kinda gets the weight off my shoulders, making me feel less uncomfortable. 

One by one, the children hear their names and, shaking, walk up the stairs and sit on an old bench, then have a weird old hat with a rag right next to the brim be placed on the top of their heads, while they squeeze their eyes shut to listen to the mighty powerful and full of wisdom voice of the object.

Finally, the last girl, Amanda Zyler, happily walks to her Hufflepuff table, and Minerva prepares to say the words that will begin to define my future. Except that, apparently, I'm not the only one who's interested, because the sound of forks and knives being dropped all over the Hall is very audible. It's like everyone was waiting for the chance to find out where I place at the Zabini-Hilton hierarchy, top or bottom, no in-between. "Miss Layla Zabini-Hilton."

My legs start working faster than my mind can process, and soon enough I'm sitting in front of the whole school, an old hat on my head and a pile of possible futures accumulating in front of me.

Each of the other kid sat there for about 6-10 minutes, so more than an hour passed since we started listening to the Hat complain about everyone or, most commonly, embarrass them. Interestingly enough, it seemed like the hat only wanted to scream a few things, while hiding and whispering others. Maybe he just wants people to feel slightly awkward.

"Oh, look! Another Zabini. Your family has quite an interesting story, young lady. I'm kind of surprised you haven't showed up years ago." It starts, making a scrawny noise that might be described as a laugh. "Miss Zabini! I can fell how nervous you are, please relax. Or not, that's up to you. Well, we have a lot here. A great brain, perfect for Ravenclaw, but a little bit too artistic, which would qualify for Hufflepuff. There's also a lot of social awkwardness, that brings us back to Ravenclaw, no offence. But then we have the rebellion, the fierceness inside your heart that almost instantly places you on Slytherin..." It points out, and I swear you could hear a needle hit the ground with all the silence going on around the Hall. "Wait... there's something else. Free spirit. The need of always saying what you're thinking, exposing your opinion... The bravery of getting out of an abusive home..." I freeze, shutting my eyes so I don't have to face everyone's eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were okay talking about it. Don't worry, they didn't hear that part, that's between you and me." That eases me. "The bravery of facing a whole new life with a warm heart and the curiosity for the unknown... Yeah, I already know where you belong." Finally.

"GRYFFINDOR!"


	5. Time

The Hall erupts in claps as Minerva takes the Hat off my head and guides me towards the Gryffindor, my eyes completely empty as I walk in small steps. 

It wasn't supposed to say that, in fact, I'm pretty sure it was supposed to say anything BUT that.

I arrive the table and make an effort to look up and search for an empty seat, but Hermione quickly pulls me next to her, and looks at me like I'm some sort of psycho, and, honestly, I might be. At least that's how my family will see me now.

"I'm in Gryffindor..." I mumble.

Hermione nods. "Yes, you're one of us now." 

"Gryffindor..." I repeat, looking around at the golden and red-coloured sea around me. "My mother is going to kill me." I say as reality hits me in the head with a bludger bat. "She's gonna break my neck like a turkey and serve me as the main course of the Christmas meal. I'm dead meat!" 

"Send me a letter when she does, I'll help her with the stuffing." Ron jokes. 

"Too soon, Ron." Hermione hisses. "Lay, honey, it is perfectly okay for you to be a Gryffindor! I'm sure your family will understand, I mean, your mom did name you after a famous Gryffindor, didn't she?" 

I look up, my cheeks heating as I have to hold on to my seat as I try to remain calm. 

"You were named after a Gryffindor?" Ron asks with his mouth full of chicken. "Awesome!" 

I nod slowly. "Layla Hilton, born in 1801. Attended Hogwarts from 1812 to mid-1818 as a Gryffindor." I say. 

Harry raises an eyebrow. "Mid-1818?"

"She died a few months before finishing, about five months I think." I shrug. "No one knows why, though."

Ron puts down his fork and looks up at me with slightly scared eyes. "Not creepy at all." 

I smile. "A little bit, I suppose." I shrug, looking at the food placed in front of me. It seems like such a waste to eat something you're gonna end up throwing up, but as the smell hits my nose I can't help but imagine myself diving into a pool of warm chocolate pudding. "Well, I can't really do anything about my house placement, can I? Might as well eat."

"Very well spoken." Ron says, shoving mashed potatoes on his mouth. 

"Listen, students." A voice echoes through the Hall, making everyone cease the conversation and face Dumbledore, who stands at the centre of the stage with a very concerned look on his face "I know all of you might have heard about the news regarding Sirius Black and Azkaban." I frown as I look at my new friends, each of them looks concerned, but Harry just looks tense. Like someone just hit him in the stomach and told him they know his darkest secrets. "It is extremely important that all students remain calm and focused on their curricular and extra-curricular activities. If you by any chance witness any suspicious behaviour, please report directly to a Professor." He says, more serious this time. "As for the Dementors, they will be staying with us for the year, in the Hogwarts surroundings, of course, just in case Black tries to enter the castle. Needless to say, you should all avoid the creatures at all costs. A Dementor does not know how to tell the difference between good and bad, and they will kill anything and anyone that crosses their path."

Well, that is a nice way to start the year. 

Hermione nods to herself as she saves every word inside her head, as for Ron and Harry, they both look scared shitless. "Guys, they won't allow those things to enter the castle, please don't be so nervous." I say as we all get up and follow our Prefects to our Common Rooms. 

"Miss Zabini." Professor McGonagall's voice hits us as we walk to the common room, and, as I turn around, I'm surprised to see her standing there with a smile on her lips. "I'd like to have a quick word with you, would you mind?" 

I smile gently as I walk to her, quickly turning around to face my friends. "I'll see you guys later." I then proceed to follow Mrs McGonagall through the over confusing hallways until we reach a painting of which seems to be of Godric Gryffindor, she whispers a few words to the painting and he puts his sword away as he gestures to the end of the painting, which opens like a door and gives us access to an oval room completely stocked with books. I try not to look as amazed as I am, but my happiness doesn't last long, it ends right as I see Headmaster Dumbledore standing behind a large wooden table. "Did I do something?"

"No, you didn't anything, Miss Zabini." Professor McGonagall reassures me. 

"It has come to our attention that you have a... Special condition." Dumbledore says, signalling me to sit down on a puffy red chair. 

I sit down and glance at my hands, picking the skin with my nails instead of looking at him. "That's correct." I confirm.

"We just want to make sure you know that we're aware of your training and we know you don't pose any threat and if you need anything, even if only talking, you can come to us." Mrs McGonagall places a hand on my shoulder, making me look up at her. I smile, throughout all the years I lived with my father, without a loving figure to look up to, I really needed someone like Minerva to tell me that I'm not dangerous, that I'm not bad. Guess good things happen to those who wait, sooner or later.

I feel a cross being lifted from my back as I stare up at them, this time with a better posture and proper manner of speech. "Thank you. It really means a lot." 

She nods slowly as she hands me a piece of parchment. "I have your schedule here, but there appears to be a problem with it."

I frown as I glance down at it. "What's wrong?"

"You chose too many electives." She winks down at me as if it was a personal joke. "But we can solve that. In fact, we've already talked about it with another student, coincidentally from the same house, that has the same problem as you do." She hands me a small red bag with a necklace inside, there's nothing too wonderful about the necklace, but the pendant is completely unique. "This is a time turner." She explains. "At every skip, you go back in time for one hour. But, you can't let anyone see you and you can't do any major changes, okay? It is a very old and important artefact and I trust you will take good care of it. On one condition, of course."

I try to hide my excitement as a part of me wonders if the condition is a punishment. It's not that I don't trust Minerva, I'm just more used to being punished than rewarded. "The condition would be...?" 

"You will have to share it with Hermione Granger. Since your schedules are very similar, we have arranged for the two of you to share it, and you will share a room. We know this might be a challenge due to the fact that..."

"I'm a spoiled little brat?" I chuckle. "You can say it, you know. That's what all the magazines say anyways, we might as well call the devil by its name."

"Quite an interesting comparison." Dumbledore laughs, amused. "But we're aware you're not, in your words, a spoiled brat, Miss Zabini. We have been the target of gossip ourselves. I believe what Professor McGonagall was about to say is that the two of you are only daughters, and you have been an only child for quite some time, living with your father, studies show that only children, especially daughters, who seem to be better-taken care of, tend to have difficulties with sharing. This is pure science, of course." He winks at me. 

I smile. "Of course. I will do my best to cooperate with Hermione so that we can both enjoy this little device." 

"Great. All settled then. Please allow me to show you the way to the Gryffindor Common Room." Professor McGonagall offers.

"Have a good night, Professor Dumbledore." I wave goodbye as we walk out of the beautiful office. 

This sure will be one hell of a year.


	6. Roomies

Mrs McGonagall was kind enough to give me a small tour through the confusing hallways of the school, telling me the password, Fortuna Major (meaning, Great Fortune, or, another-reason-for-the-Gryffindors-to-think-they're-better-than-everyone-else), and wishes me a good night as she leaves to her own room.

I deeply wish she had entered the room with me, though. 

From the instant I walk in, eyes turn to me. About 20 or so pairs of curious eyes. I blush, forcing myself to keep my head held high as I walk through them, hearing my brothers name more than once. I clench my jaw and snap my head to whoever said that, finding the eyes of a boy a year or so younger than me. I raise an eyebrow, and he looks down.

Well, maybe that's the reason everyone thinks I'm a spoiled brat. I couldn't care less either way, and I'm sure as hell so couldn't Blaise, after all, his motto is 'whether it's good or bad, at least they're talking about me', which I'm guessing he stole from our mother... Or Draco. Probably Draco. It suits him.

I walk through the living room, reaching two staircases, one that leads to the boys' dorms and one that leads to the girls. I walk up the stairs to the girls' dorms and follow the neverending corridor until I find my school year, near the end of the corridor. I guess 6th and 7th Years have the privilege of being in the front, I mean, they deserve it. As I take a final curve, I find the Third Year part of the dorms, and I stand in front of the first room, which has a board that reads: Hermione Granger, Layla Zabini, Marina Rojas and Alice Mint.

I don't knock, but simply open the door with the small golden key Mrs McGonagall gave me. It seems to be ridiculously old, which makes me wonder how many girls have slept in the same bed I'm about to sleep in, how many generations of strong, independent women shared their secrets and fears inside of this very room? Were they connected forever? And, most importantly, how many of them died of natural causes?

I shake the thought off my head as I walk in. I am not my ancestors. I am not Layla Zabini I, I am the second, and I will do everything right this time. I try to look as confident as I feel like I should be as I walk into the room and close the door behind me.

Instantly, three pairs of eyes turn to me. The first one is a pair of warm brown eyes that I recognize as being Hermione's. Then, it's time to meet the other girls, Alice and Marina. Both of them are blonde, though the tones differ a bit, and are sitting on one of the top beds, very close to each other. The only two reasons I can think of for them to be that close is kissing or gossiping, and I'm sure they wouldn't snog with Hermione in the room. Or maybe they would, who knows, who cares. One of them giggles when she sees me, and whispers something to the other one and then they both share a giggle. I sigh, getting the way too familiar feeling of having people gossip about you.

I walk to the bottom bed between the balcony and the bathroom, happy that I'll be sharing the bunk with Hermione, not one of the Salazar Siamese Sisters. Hermione quickly gets down from her top bunk and joins me, a smile on her lips as she hugs me. "I'm so glad you're here. I almost had a heart attack when I saw your name on the board." She says, with an excitement that makes me feel like I'm her only female friend. But, then again, if I had to spend every single day with Harry and Ron as best friends, I would go crazy too, so I kinda get it. Plus, I never really had many friends before, especially not girls. I grew up with my dad and his many girlfriends, who always thought they could "bond" with me by talking about how amazing my dad was and how he loved me (yeah, right). Some of them were actually kinda nice, and bought me gifts and shoes and stuff like that, but none of them was actually my friend, they were my possible step-mothers.

"Could I talk to you for a second? In private, please." She nods, following me out of the room. I slowly take a red velvet bag out of my pocket and show her. "Mrs McGonagall said we get to use it this year, I'm sure she went through with you about all the rules and stuff. If we behave well with it this year, we get to keep it until we graduate! But it is only for school and nothing else, no personal business. The teachers already know we're using it but they won't mention it."

She frowns. "You sound really scary when you keep secrets. I hope it's not a knife." She chuckles, opening the bag. "Merlin! You applied to the same classes as I did?"

I nod. "Mrs. McGonagall said we have almost the same schedule."

We went through some basic rules and decided we would try to use it tomorrow after lunch, then she said I should be the one to keep it since McGonagall gave me, and I agreed. After we finished, we walked back to our dorm to find the Siamese Sisters in the same gossiping position.

"What's with them? Are they permanently stuck in this position or are they playing statue?" I whisper.

"Ever heard Gryffindor is the best house to make friends because everyone is so loyal and sweet and awesome?" Hermione asks. "Some people don't fit the stereotype... Or fit it too much." I chuckle. "They're just your basic Hogwarts girls. Popular for being in Gryffindor and have major crushes on Draco Malfoy. So don't trash him in front of them unless you want a fist to your face, they're not afraid to fight."

I nod. "I wonder what kind of brain damage someone has to have to crush on that lemon head."

She laughs. "When did you meet him? During summer?"

I shake my head. "No. Draco didn't visit my brother this summer." I shrug, not noticing my voice was a little louder. "I only met him on the platform."

I see two pairs of eyes snapping at me. "Your brother knows Draco Malfoy?" 

"Yes..." I say as if it was obvious. I'm so used to being recognized that the fact that these two gossiping girls didn't know who my brother was shocked me. I mean, if they weren't gossiping about my family, what were they talking about? "My brother is Blaise Zabini."

Their eyes go wide. "DRACO'S BEST FRIEND?" They yell. "Oh My Merlin! I cannot believe it!" 

"Tell us all about him!" One of them says. "We're gonna be your best friends!"

"The best of all!" The other says.

I shake my head. "No, thank you. I do not know my brother that well as to tell you about him, nor do I know Draco or wish to know him. All I know is that they're best friends and that's all. As about Best Friends, I'm sure I can find my own." I say smiling to Hermione. "Now if you excuse me, I need a bath."

I walk the other way to grab my clothes, not bothering to check if they were offended or not.


	7. Booze

The Hogwarts dormitory is probably the best thing I've seen in the castle so far.

I mean, yes, the Great Hall is impeccable and I'm sure that whoever designed it should be really proud of the truly mesmerizing beauty that, dare I say, reminded me of the beautiful yet obscure times of the 15th century. But the dormitories were something completely different. They were captivating in a way that was definitely less Medieval and more Victorian or maybe Regency inspired.

When I went to Beauxbatons, most people spent about two or three months wearing perfume because the water didn't quite work during the winter, but, if what I read is true, then this cosy white tub can be filled at all 365 of the year... Not that I intend to stay here this long, but it'll be good to know that I won't need to breathe the toxic perfume-filled air or dive into a pool of powder this year. Looks like Beauxbatons could learn a little bit with Hogwarts... With the exception of the headmistress department, I'll miss Madame Maxime, she certainly was the mother I lacked growing up... She even tried teaching me how to do my makeup but, well, that didn't go quite as we planned, her makeup made my face completely white and I spent two weeks trying to get the lipstick off lips. When I stop to think about it, she'll certainly be the person I will miss the most.

After what seemed like the most relaxing 20 minutes of my life, I step out of the bath, wrap a towel around myself and proceed to walk to the mirror. It's not surprising to me that what I see doesn't really agree with the beauty of the room. I look around. The beautiful tub, the flawless marble sink and the floor, clear as water, everything in the room is so beautiful, so flawless and perfect, and I stand in front of the mirror as the only ugly thing.

My mind quickly flies to the big dinner I had just 30, maybe 40 minutes ago... I was enjoying myself so much alongside my new friends I completely forgot to stay within my diet. I bite my lip as I let the towel slide down my body and poke my prominent tummy, probably full of food... Maybe it's not too late, maybe there's still time to review my dinner...

I turn on the tap and kneel in front o the toilet, sticking my fingers as far down my throat as I can, but unfortunately, nothing comes out. I try again, and this time all I see is a flow of what appears to be dirty water. That's weird, I don't remember drinking that. Maybe it's the pumpkin juice... But it wouldn't look so dirty.

After three, four, five other attempts, I finally give up, sitting in the cold bathroom floor, water running from my hair to the floor. Since there's no need to try again, I swirl a little bit of wind out of my fingers, cleaning my mess on the floor and taking away the water on my body with it. I guess my powers would come in hand to dry my hair as well, but after performing magic to dry the floor I decided that it would be better to let my hair dry naturally. Not only because it would be enjoyable, one of those simple little tasks you can't just use magic to complete, but because it would be suspicious if I came out of the bathroom with my hair completely dry.

I quickly take hold of my emotions, doing my best to lock them up before putting my clothes on, brushing my teeth (avoiding my reflection at all costs while doing it, naturally), then proceeding to gather everything that had my initials on and walking out of the bathroom.

"Well, it was about bloody time!" The one I assumed to be Marina says, shaking her golden curls and walking straight past me and into the bathroom. 

"Sorry." I mutter quietly before walking to the bunk Hermione and I would be sharing. 

"Don't worry, she's rude to nearly everybody." Hermione whispers as I place my stuff in the bedside table floating aside of the top bed. 

"Let me guess, Draco is the exception?" I let out a quiet chuckle. 

"Draco, Blaise, Vincent, Gregory and Pansy. Aside from Marina, of course." She explains, making me realise that I mixed the two up and got their names wrong. The girl who just entered the bathroom is Alice, and the one sitting on the top bed, writing on a red notebook, is Marina. 

All of this goes through my brain before I suddenly process everything Hermione just said. "Wait a minute, she's friends with Pug-Face?" I raise an eyebrow. 

Hermione lets out a low laugh. "Pansy's father is a famous fashion designer... Maybe you've heard of him, Lukas Parkinson?" 

"Oh, yes, I've heard of him. His designs are very scandalous, aren't they? I'm sure my mother walked for him once or twice. I'm not sure what she thinks about him, though, she's more of a classic fashion kind of person... I did enjoy the collection he designed last year, what's it called..."

"A Trip Throughout History." Hermione adds. "Pansy couldn't stop talking about it, apparently everyone loved it to bits. I'm not a big fan of fashion but I was sure you would know who he is." She smirks. 

I roll my eyes. "You're very funny, Granger. Of course, he's actually really good. Though he is doing a few things wrong if he's the one raising her." 

"I think her parents are divorced, for what I know..."

"So her parents are divorced AND one of them is a fashion designer? I sure hope the similarities don't go further than that." I chuckle, pretending to have chills. "Mione quit dangling on the stair and get down here already, we can't just keep whispering to each other in the hopes that the Siamese Sisters won't listen."

Hermione smiles, hopping on my bed and bringing a bag of a weirdly shaped candy with her. "Sorry, I don't really have many girlfriends."

"Well, you have one now." I assure her. "And what in the name of Merlin is that?"

"Those are gummy worms." She says, opening the package and letting me pick a red and blue worm-like thing I was actually expecting to move. "They're not like the chocolate frogs, they don't move. They're like Jelly Beans... Well, I guess technically they are. Just think that they are Bertie Beans, but without the flavours that make you sick."

I nod, biting on the tail of the little worm and letting the sweet candy flavour spread around my tongue. "Wow! That's actually really good! It's like... Strawberry and green apples." 

"I'm glad you liked it." She smiles, shoving an entire worm into her mouth. "So, what do you think of Gryffindor so far?"

"Well... I have to admit I spent pretty much my entire life despising this House. I mean, it was everything I was ever taught. But I quite like it here. I mean, it certainly doesn't compare to the extraordinary tales of bravery and loyalty that I've heard..." I chuckle. 

"Yeah, those were mostly exaggerated."

"But overall, it's not that bad. At all." I take another worm. "Plus, I met you. Could've been worse, right?" I poke her lightly. 

"I suppose it could." She laughs. 

"So... Tomorrow is Sunday, which means we have one last day before classes start and everything gets boring and annoying... What do you guys do to have fun on the weekends around here?" I ask, biting a piece of the colourful candy.

"We usually just hang out around the castle, but this year there's the trip to Hogsmeade, did you get the permission parchment?"

"Oh... Yes, I remember my brother mentioning something about it. I think my mother sent it to Dumbledore a few weeks after when we got the school supplies list." I try to remember my brother's exact words, but they seem to escape my mind. "That should be fun, I've never been to Hogsmeade before, have you?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Never. But I've heard its a very famous place in the English wizarding community, so we're probably going to see a big number of wizards, especially this time of the year, everyone enjoys a hot beverage."

"So, you think there are gonna be a lot of people there?" I look down. "Nice."

"Something wrong?" Hermione frowns.

I start playing with the sheets, waving the awkwardness away with the best smile I can. "I'm just not a big fan of crowds, that's all. It makes me uncomfortable to be in the middle of a crowd or surrounded by tons of people... It also always ends on someone commenting on my father's drinking habits."

I feel Hermione shifting her weight on the bed. "Yeah, I, uh, heard something about it..."

"It's okay, Hermione. You can ask if you want... It's all true. The pressure and fame just got to be too much for him, he started drinking when I was 4, maybe 5 years old. I still have some memories and pictures of him when he was an actual father, but from when I reached 5 to now all I can remember is the drunk version of him." I shrug, grabbing another worm. I look up to see a shocked, and almost pitiful, expression covering her face. "It did make it easier for me to get alcohol, though." I chuckle, trying to ease the mood. "My dad was never against me drinking or smoking or anything like that..."

"So you've had alcohol before?" 

"I mean, of course. Haven't you?" She shakes her head slightly. "Oh... Well, I'm sure here in England you guys have a late start." I knew it was a lie, a lie I was saying to make myself feel better. I never saw my brother drink even a drop of alcohol, and my mother rarely had anything besides water. Occasionally, I would see her sitting on the couch, a fashion magazine or sketches for the next season collection on one hand, and a glass of wine on the other, but even those occasions were rare. Now that I think about it, I believe my family doesn't even know I drink. 

"Yes, this must be it." Hermione says, glancing at the clock. "Well, we should go to bed, I'm sure tomorrow will be exciting, even if we don't go to Hogsmeade. We could go to the library if you want. I can show you around."

"That would be great! I would love to see the library." I smile.

Hermione smiles before saying goodnight and going to her bunk. Soon enough, the other girls get tired as well, and Alicia turns off the candles.

When the morning came, I was already awake. I spent the night tossing and turning, and, when the first rays of sunshine infiltrated through the thick curtains and managed to penetrate the room, bringing with them the first hour of the day and the delightful sound of birds singing, I already had my eyes opened.

I get up and walk to the mirror, yawning as I glance at myself. Dark circles under my eyes, dry lips and greasy skin. I clench my jaw and walk back to bed, grabbing my necessaire and walking to the bathroom, glad none of the girls was awake yet. 

I wash my face and comb my hair slowly, thinking it would be better to not change the colour of it, since Hermione is probably the only one who knows about the curse. She seemed to have knowledge of my family tree, so of course, she knows, and, maybe, she just doesn't want to ask, like the subject of my father, or, maybe, she doesn't believe it's true. Either way, I fear that my secret won't stay hidden for long, but I would prefer it was hidden for as long as possible.

I start my makeup by hiding my pimples and dark circles. Then proceed to fix my eyebrows, put on some foundation, mascara and, finally, lipstick. There's no need to spend a long time on it, something classic and simple would do. And makeup is almost a second skin to me at this point, I would feel completely naked without it.

After I'm finished, I leave the bathroom and look for an outfit, noticing the peaceful sound of Hermione's deep sleep, and I can tell one of the blondes are snoring, though I cannot tell which one; I quickly take hold of the clothes I want and rush back to the bathroom. I take my sweet time, knowing the girls are asleep, but as a come out again, fully dressed, I see Alicia rubbing her eyes and walking past me, her shoulder bumping on mine not so subtly as she mumbled in rage. "It was about bloody time."

"I'm sorry..." I say as I realize the other girls are already awake. "I thought everyone was asleep." 

"The birds woke us up." Hermione states, yawning loudly as she blindly looks for her clock. "Good Merlin. It is terribly early. How are you already awake?"

"Couldn't sleep. Had too much on my mind." I shrug. 

Marina suddenly walks to me, fully dressed and holding a leather bag. "Alicia and I made a decision. We will tell the elves we do not wish for our room to be organized in bunk beds, we are requesting them to be changed to single beds."

"I don't have any objection to that, but is that even possible?" I frown. 

"It is." Hermione answers. "All rooms are previously arranged to be bunks. But we can change if we want, the room is way too big, there's enough space."

"So, you agree with the decision?" Marina asks. 

Hermione and I nod. "I believe so." 

"Great, I shall leave a message for the elves, then." She says, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment and placing on the wall. "They'll come here later to organize and clean, as they always do, and will see the message."

"I didn't know elves organized our room." I comment, straightening my hair. 

"Was it any different at your old school?" Alicia asks as she exits the bathroom. 

"We had maids at Beauxbatons." I explain. 

Marina looks confused. "Maids?"

I nod. "Yes. They came early in the morning or late in the night, depending on our preferences."

"That sounds ridiculously french." Hermione comments, laughing. 

I roll my eyes ironically. "Oh, please." 

"Jokes aside, the Beauxbatons castle sounds great." Marina comments as she fixes her hair. "Why'd you leave?"

I cough, slightly surprised with the question. "I had a disagreement with my father. He is to be married in January, and..." 

"You didn't approve of the bride?" Alicia interrupts.

I shake my head. "I think Denise is a beautiful, pleasant and amazingly educated woman. She seems to make him happy, and that's all that matters. But my father is a complicated person, to say so. He tends to kick away the good things in his life, and I fear he'll do the same with Denise. I tried to object to the marriage, I don't think it would be a good idea for him to marry again, but he insisted. I got mad and left, I thought it would be a good idea to spend some time with my mother and brother."

"So you intend on going back?" Hermione asks. 

"No." I say quickly. "I found my new home. I don't intend on going back... Ever. Maybe for the wedding, I am one of the bridesmaids, after all. But after that, I see no reason to interrupt their new life."

"Does she have any children?" Marina asks. 

I shake my head. "Not that I know of... No, wait. I believe her ex-husband had a little girl... Clara? Flora? Something like that. Anyways, her husband fell terribly ill a few years ago..."

"Oh, dear Merlin, did he die?" Hermione asks, a hand placed on her chest. 

"No, no. But he did fall in love with the nurse who was caring for him. He asked for the divorce and they got separated. Unfortunately, his new wife wasn't too fond of children, and the little girl was sent to live with his ex-wife. She's not her mother, though."

"This is so freaking confusing." Alicia comments. "You should write a freaking book about your father's love life."

I chuckle. "He did have an exceeding amount of women in his life."

"How do you do that?" Marina asks. 

I frown. "Do what?"

"You speak like an adult. Or someone who was born in the 1800s... It's just, too formal, too severe for someone your age, it's funny."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize... I suppose it must be because I learned English through classic novels from the regency era... I was really fond of them growing up... I still am. All the beautiful dresses, corsets and elegant love stories... The passion, the refined taste... It makes me wish I was alive back then."

"That's creepy. I'm terrified of old stuff. It's like I can see the old owner of it... It creeps me out." Alicia admits. 

I laugh. "I've never heard of this kind of fear."

"Oh, would you look at the hour..." Alicia says, mimicking my accent. "We'll be late for brunch... I mean, breakfast."

"Aren't you funny?" I roll my eyes. "But you are correct, Alicia, we should get going. Will you join us?" I ask the other girls. 

"I would like to take a shower first, now that I think about it... Would you mind waiting for me, Layla?" Hermione asks. 

"Not at all. Breakfast has barely started anyways, so there's no need to rush. I'll indulge myself on another chapter of Pride and Prejudice while I wait." I smile, playing along with the accent joke, and walking towards my bed and grabbing the book from the floating bedside table, then sitting on Hermione's bed as I wait. 

The girls leave as I wait for Mione, being a little shocked of their nice behaviour and fearing I might have judged them too harshly, maybe they are nice and I'm just being a bitch. Maybe.

About 25 minutes later, Hermione emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed, her hair perfectly dry, which, later she tells me, is the result of a well-performed spell. "Ready to go?"

I nod and we happily exit the room. I find myself curious to see how the new beds will affect our lives. I'm sure Alicia and Marina requested to be close to each other, and I would be more than happy to sleep close to Hermione. That way we could gossip between ourselves without the possibility of someone hearing it. 

We calmly walk through the corridors of Hogwarts, Hermione points out her favourite spots to hang out with the boys, and soon enough we find our way to the Great Hall. 

As we enter, Hermione is quick to spot Harry and a very sleepy Ron, playing chess and eating warm waffles. We walk to them, and I sit by Harry as Hermione sits by Ron. I start chatting with Harry about what we should do today when a seemingly older boy approaches me, sitting by my side. He dresses the navy blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, which matches perfectly his piercing blue eyes. "Layla, right?"

I blush but nod. "Yes" 

"Would you care to join me for a drink?" He asks, a smug plastered around his face. 

"This early in the morning?" I chuckle. 

"What is the issue, darling?" His hands find my legs. "You do enjoy a good drink at any time of the day, don't you? As does your father." I freeze. My words get caught in my throat as I look around to see all eyes on me. Two girls giggle in the corner, Marina and Alicia. "I did hear you could get me some drinks, though. I'm sure you have contacts and such, would you care to help? Ravenclaw is having a party next week and we would love if you could join us, maybe do some shots while we're at it? And later we could..." His hand ventures to my inner thigh. 

I clench my jaw, my fingers getting warm as I get up, tears threatening to leak out of my eyes. "You're right. I do enjoy a good drink. And so does my father. He lives for it. And everyone in France knows. He is also the best potions master and alchemist of the modern world. And, yes, he might enjoy a good drink more often than others, but he also taught me something. He taught me to never bow down. To never submit to men like you. Men who think they can have everything and everyone. Men who think they can play women like they are some sort of object that you can toss around and train to do your bidding. Well, I am not an object, and I am certainly not your fucking darling. I am a woman, and most importantly, I am a bloody human being. Now, if you are already done with wasting my time, would you care to excuse me as I have breakfast with my friends? I'm sure your table is over there, though I can't guarantee any girl would want to sit beside you, perhaps you would like me to pour you a drink while you sit by yourself?"


	8. Waking Up after a Storm

I'm running before I can even think about it. My lungs are burning and my head is spinning. I can't breathe, I feel like I'm going to explode. What in the name of Merlin is happening to my body? 

"Layla!" 

I suddenly stop. A few meters from me stand two very distinct groups, and an entire crowd is behind them. 

The first group is Hermione, Harry and Ron. My heart warms as I see them but I know I can't stand near them, not right now. 

The second group is my brother, Draco, Pansy and two other boys. I clench my jaw, of course, they would've come. My brother knows and I can see the fear in his eyes. Fuck. 

Blaise whispers something to Draco then proceeds to walk to me, very carefully as if approaching a wild animal that might attack. He reaches me in what seem to be years of walking, yet I know must be a few minutes. He starts saying something but I'm too dizzy to hear, my body cannot process any information, my hands curl in fists as I look at him, I can feel my hair turning darker. Blaise does something with his left hand and I can hear Draco's voice screaming in the distance. I glance at him, in time to see Hermione gripping to Harry's shirt, a scared look in her eyes. Harry and Ron look at her, they have no idea what's happening but she knows. She just _knows_.

"Sister- Me- Sister!" I hear the fragmented speech coming out of Blaise's lips, and my hands instinctively push him away. He falls. Draco runs to him. Hermione screams something in the distance. I hear Pansy yelling at Draco before my eyes meet with his. He looks scared. They all do. 

I look at Blaise, he's on the floor, his eyes watching me. He mumbles something. I shake my head. "Blaise..." That's when the fire starts. 

My lungs stop burning as soon as the fire starts twirling around me, I fall on my knees and yell as loud as I can. It hurts. Not the fire, the feelings that come with it. My brother screams something before my eyes finally close. I forgot how much energy is drained from my body when I freak out. I can't breathe and everything turns black. 

\- 

Holidays with my father. For some reason, those memories came to me while I was out. I knew I was dreaming, and I didn't want to wake up. I see the snow falling and I hear my father's ex-girlfriend, Ciera, laughing. I look to my right to see them having a glass of wine and talking, while a happy 7-year-old version of me smiles and plays with a doll. The memory makes me feel better, but there's something wrong. I don't see Blaise or my mother, and they should've been there. Mother promised she'll be there. 

"Blaise..." I whisper as the scene starts fading away. 

"Yes?" A voice answers.

I open my eyes to see Blaise sitting beside me. I'm laying down in a bed with white sheets that are the perfect contrast to my skin. He smiles at me, there's a white cloth on his hand. A lady stands in front of my bed and Mrs McGonagall sits to my left, next to Blaise. 

"You weren't there... When I was seven, mother promised you'd come for the holidays but you weren't there." I say.

He smiles. "I'm sorry, little one."

"Your hand. Did I hurt you? Did I hurt anyone?" 

"Everyone's okay, love." Minerva says. "You're the only one who got hurt. It was a pretty bad fall you had there."

"There was a boy... He said..."

"I know. Mr Malfoy explained the situation to me. Mr Delano will be dealt with by the head of Ravenclaw. I can guarantee you he will be punished." She says in a soothing voice. 

"Malfoy?" I ask, confused. 

"He made sure no one was around to watch." Blaise says. "I asked him to take them out of there. Only a few people were left."

"Hermione..." I whisper.

"She was there, yes." He says.

"Do you wish to see her, darling?" Minerva asks. "Dumbledore was quite worried about letting the kids in, he wanted to wait until you woke up."

"I'd like to see them if you don't mind, Mrs McGonagall." I say, smiling.

"Of course, darling. Madame Pomfrey and I are going to excuse you guys." She says, gesturing to the lady who was standing in front of my bed. I notice the band-aids on my knees.

"Merci, Madame Pomfrey." 

"Oh, darling, it was no problem at all. You'll have to stay here until tomorrow, though, just to make sure." She says kindly before leaving with Minerva.

Hermione, Harry and Ron walk into the room right after they leave. They are accompanied by Draco, Pansy, Alicia and Marina. I frown, these two were laughing at me when the whole situation took place, yet they are here. 

Hermione rushes to my side, she smiles softly as she takes my hand. "How are you feeling?" 

"Quite sore. But that doesn't matter." I smile back, looking at her and the boys. "What you guys saw... I wanted to tell you, but... I didn't know how you'd react. I'm sorry I kept it a secret."

"When we met, Harry's scar used to hurt almost every day. He never told us 'coz he never wanted us to worry. We understand." Ron says.

"Scar pain doesn't quite compare to what she went through, Weasley." Draco finally speaks, rolling his eyes.

"I understand the comparison, Ron. Thanks for being so kind." I say.

Harry walks a bit closer to me, ignoring Blaise's protest. "We're just glad you're okay, we were worried. Hermione told us a bit about the whole curse thing, we hope you don't mind."

"I don't, at all. I'm sure she explained better than I ever would." I chuckle. "I'm just happy I didn't hurt anyone."

A few hours pass and the trio stays behind to talk to me, though Pansy and the girls thought it'd be better to leave. Harry and Ron finally excuse themselves after remembering they should've talked to Dumbledore about the permission slip for Hogsmead. Blaise stays behind after Draco excuses himself for a few minutes. "I really am happy you're okay, little one." Blaise says.

I chuckle "Thanks, silly. I'm just glad no one got hurt, I would never be able to forgive myself..."

"These guys really seem to care about you." Blaise says, nodding towards Hermione, who blushes.

"They're great people." I assure him. "Couldn't have wished for better friends." I smile at Hermione.

A low knock is heard through the room, and Blaise tells whoever it is they can come in. Draco steps in, a blush creeping on his pale skin as he spots the people in the room. He holds a bouquet of red roses. I frown. "Mother says flowers always make people feel better... Blaise said these were your favorite." He shrugs, stepping closer to hand them to me.

"That's so nice... Though I believe I should be the one giving you flowers, Malfoy. Thank you for getting people away from the scene I made." I say sincerely.

"Oh, it was no trouble at all. I'm an expert at screaming at people." He chuckles. "Though I must admit, when Blaise said to get them away when he made the signal, I thought you'd just start crying or some shit... I didn't quite expect... that... To happen."

"I'm afraid it'd be much easier to see me doing that than crying. I never cry in public."

He rolls his eyes. "You and Blaise are very much alike."

"I sure hope so." I say, looking at Blaise. 

"Well, I need a fresh bath. And Hermione should be tired as well, would you like me to accompany you to your house?" Blaise says, yawning.

Hermione nods slowly. "Sure. Goodnight, Lay. I'll come to see you tomorrow, yes?" 

I nod. "Night, Mione."

The two of them leave, leaving a very uncomfortable me and a confused Draco behind. "I think your brother's got a crush on the mudblood."

I frown. "Don't say that word." I say, seriously. 

"I'm sorry, old habit." His apology seems genuine, but it still bothers me.

"A habit you should've left behind. That's very unkind, Malfoy, really. And right when I was starting to think you were alright." I roll my eyes.

He chuckles. "You're not the first one to say that. I must admit I think you're kinda cool as well. Kind of."

"Well I am flattered, the famous Hogwarts playboy thinking I'm kinda cool? I'm swooning."

"Okay, let's make a deal: I won't call anyone mudblood and you don't call me a playboy, okay? I absolutely hate that word." He cringes.

"Alright, but you'll have to honour your side of the deal, Mister Malfoy."

"You know you can call me Draco, right?" He says, playfully poking me.

"Mister Malfoy suits you better."

Draco rolls his eyes playfully, looking at the window before bringing up the subject of housing and asking me what I think of Hogwarts. We talk for a few hours before my eyes start getting heavy. I think I hear him say goodnight before falling asleep, but it might've been just a dream.

Draco Malfoy is probably not the worst person ever, and I sure hope he never uses that word again.


End file.
